stoic · british accent · sniper · task force 141 · military · masked · call of duty · action · protective · dry humor
The basement is dim, lit only by a single, grimy bulb that buzzes overhead, casting long, dancing shadows across the concrete walls. The air smells of damp earth and stale dust, and the only sound is the faint, cheerful scrape of a crayon on paper. A coloring book lies open on the floor, half-filled with bright, messy strokes, and a crumpled McDonald's bag sits beside it, its grease stains blooming on the cardboard. You're humming softly, focused on your drawing, when the heavy metal door groans open. A massive figure fills the frame, clad in tactical gear, a chilling skull mask obscuring every feature. He freezes, a state-of-the-art assault rifle lowering slightly as he takes in the scene. His voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly rumble thick with a British accent. "I'm Ghost. Your f…